


Snow in the Shire

by youdontneedhenry



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-24 20:02:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6165040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youdontneedhenry/pseuds/youdontneedhenry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin Oakenshield and Bilbo Baggins are spending the holidays in the Shire, reminiscing upon the past and giving gifts to those they love most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow in the Shire

It had been nearly a year since Erebor had been reclaimed. While much was still left to do, the kingdom was glorious and proud, as it should be, and a king at last sat rightfully upon the throne. As months passed, Bilbo realized that he was growing to like Erebor much more than he had expected at first. His love for the Shire now seemed only a fond and distant memory to him. The taste of apple tart, the light dancing music bounding along the knolls, and the warm light of a fire in his smial- this had been his home. But Bilbo had come to love another with much more of his heart. He realized that really he hadn't taken any effort to love the Shire. He loved the Shire because it was his home, but Bilbo found his home in Thorin because he loved him.

It had been obvious to everyone, of course, except for maybe the two of them, that Thorin and Bilbo loved each other deeply. The snickering throughout the journey- and well afterwards, particularly thanks to Kili and Fili- had been enough to make their feelings a common understanding amongst the company. Not that anyone minded; Balin and even Dwalin were very happy to see Thorin brighten again. After Bilbo had remained in Erebor for several months, Thorin had decided it was only proper to ask Bilbo to be his consort. Bilbo thought it a very romantic title: Consort to the King under the Mountain. They were entirely smitten with each other, reviving Erebor through their love.

The holidays were now approaching though, and Bilbo wanted to return to the Shire for a few days to visit family and friends. Thorin was glad to come along with him, but was too shy to say so; however, Bilbo could read him very easily and knew that Thorin was looking forward to traveling, which made him feel much better about the idea. Honestly, Thorin was the biggest sap, though few would have thought it.

Bilbo and Thorin arrived upon Bag End, which Prim and Drogo had taken care of while Bilbo was away. 

"Well, I don't think it looks too bad for me having been away a year. Some trimming at the hedges and a good sweeping and it would look just the same, I might say!" Bilbo smiled, his small pink cheeks full of pride. Thorin looked at his smile and couldn't help but smile a little himself, and then turned to the house. Bilbo truly had a lovely little home.

"I would credit that to your impeccable housekeeping," Thorin admired. He was sincere in his words, not laughing, and Bilbo was flattered by the thought. Bilbo gazed up at Thorin. His dark hair fell in braids and small ringlets around his face, giving a warmth to his strong jawline and cheekbones. Thorin had a flush to his face now. Bilbo looked away quickly, his eyes darting over Bag End, realizing he had been staring at Thorin perhaps longer than he had thought.

"It was something I became rather good at, I suppose. Years of experience," he meekly suggested. "Come on then, let's go inside." Bilbo put his hand on Thorin's forearm, walking up the stone steps to his circular green door. Little yellow flowers and potted plants were dusted in a soft layer of snow, as if they had been sprinkled with sugar. "I know Prim and Drogo didn't lock up...Here we are."

Thorin Oakenshield was once more in Bag End. He remembered his first time inside the smial, and regretted how stiffly he had treated Bilbo then. He had hoped that Bilbo had forgotten about their first meeting, about the awkward suspicion, about the tense glances. Thorin had been different then. He had been pained by unfulfilled hopes and still bleeding from old wounds that had refused to heal. 

He felt comfortable here. Bag End felt familiar, and yet, he had only been there once. The rich brown wooden trim and the rectangular accent rug in front of the fireplace were still the same. The small round glass-paned windows and the intricately carved work desk were still neat. The chandelier Gandalf was always hitting his head on was still dangling in the entryway. Thorin chuckled, unable to catch himself.

"What are you laughing at?" Bilbo asked, turning around from a pile of papers he was rummaging through at his desk.

"Your chandelier. Gandalf was always hitting his head on it. He ruined the moment several times by running into things," Thorin laughed heartily. Bilbo loved to see Thorin laugh so hard his eyes crinkled and his deep baritone rang. Bilbo was an awful tease though.

"I find my chandelier quite tasteful, Thorin Oakenshield, and it is not my fault that others are unable to accommodate my decorating," Bilbo threateningly said in a convincingly angry tone. Thorin quieted his laughter almost immediately.

"I'm sorry. I know it means so much to you. I didn't mean to say anything," Thorin spoke with a twinge of concern in his voice. His eyes were calm and loving, a cool blue peace searching for an answer in Bilbo's. He took a step toward Bilbo, who was just waiting for the right moment.

"Oh, Thorin, you know I am only joking," Bilbo giggled, twisting his mouth into the most guilty sly grin. " I found it rather funny myself that Gandalf was bumbling around. Why would I be angered over such a trifling matter?"

"Considering your track record, I don't think it seems rather odd at all," Thorin laughed, putting his hands protectively on Bilbo's shoulders.

"That isn't funny!" Bilbo quipped. He playfully nudged Thorin's chest, but was surprised when he felt something rather odd near the tuck of his arm. Thorin's eyes dropped as he realized he was found out. "What is this here?" Bilbo prodded. "I know that's not you," he joked. Bilbo felt at the edges of what seemed like a rectangular object. Thorin opened his coat and produced a medium-sized box. He stepped closer to Bilbo and took his hand.

"Bilbo, seeing as it is the holidays, I wanted to give you something," Thorin bashfully explained, looking up at Bilbo from his own feet. The box was wrapped in green paper and tied with a brown ribbon covered with jewels. Thorin handed his gift over to Bilbo, fairly nervous at his reaction. Bilbo stood looking between Thorin, who was nervously smiling, and the box. "Go ahead and open it," Thorin encouraged.

Bilbo sat the box upon the desk carefully, taking his time to unwrap it, while Thorin stood nearby, hoping Bilbo would like his present. Bilbo laid the ribbon aside and tore the shimmery wrapping paper along its seams so as to preserve it. At last, the box was there for the opening. He slowly wiggled at the sides of it and popped off its lid. Bilbo pulled back a layer of wrapping paper and was excited to know what his present was.

Inside was a Smaug plushie, a seemingly real miniature of the dragon himself. The fabric was a soft deep reddish-black with numerous glistening scales. A long row of stiff finned ridges led to incredibly broad pointed wings and a massive tail. The eyes were intense crystals, gleaming with fiery colors and streaked with black and greens. The mouth was closed, but one could imagine the razor-edged teeth which emerged from beneath the dark nostrils and curled lip. Bilbo was mesmerized with its artistry. 

"Do you like it?" Thorin asked shyly, stepping behind Bilbo so closely he could feel the warmth of his skin.

"Why-Thorin, you shouldn't have. The craftsmanship is phenomenal. Where did you get this?" Bilbo turned to face Thorin, still holding the tiny dragon.

"I found it in the legend shop when we were browsing near the market. A rather clever hobbit there had read your work and captured him quite nicely. You are a fantastic writer, Bilbo. Of course, I still don't have good feelings for the creature," Thorin pouted and crossed his arms resolutely. 

"I wouldn't expect you to! I don't exactly either, but we must admit, Smaug was wondrous-evil as he may have been." Bilbo nestled his hands in Thorin's and held them to his chest.

"There's one more thing," Thorin nudged quietly. Bilbo turned toward the box again and found a small wooden box inside. He opened it and saw a shining hair bead. It was silver and inlaid with tiny rubies.

"Thorin," Bilbo gasped. "Did you make this yourself?" Bilbo spun back to face him.

"Yes, I had rather hoped that you like to wear it in a hair braid. If that's fine with you," Thorin suggested. He looked like an innocent, hopeful puppy.

"I see. This was a gift for you too, then," Bilbo chuckled and waved the bead at Thorin.

"I do love to braid your hair. It's so soft and light," Thorin murmured, pulling Bilbo into an eager embrace and running his fingers lightly through his honey-brown curls. 

"I have something for you too, Thorin, though I don't know how well it measures up to yours," Bilbo said warmly against Thorin's chest. He pulled away gently and took a tiny golden box wrapped in a ribbon of leaves and berries from his pocket. "I hope you like it." Bilbo handed the box to Thorin with a smile, still wrapped in one of Thorin's strong arms. Thorin pulled his arm away to open the latch of the present. Thorin was surprised by what he saw.

Inside the box was a little Thorin Oakenshield figurine, standing with feet slightly apart and glaring straight ahead. Orcrist remained in his sheath and he was dressed in thick layers of dark leather and furs and metals, just as he had when he first met Bilbo. It was an uncanny resemblance and Thorin knew the detail which had gone into its making.

"I had it custom-made for you. The other figurines of you and the company are overdramatized, with swords drawn and large suits of armor and eyes filled with anger. I wanted a figure of you as you are. A hero." Bilbo blinked quickly, admiring Thorin.

"It's wonderful," Thorin beamed, looking into the gleam in Bilbo's eyes. They seemed to change colors. Now they were a bright hazel. Bilbo nuzzled his nose into Thorin's neck, making him laugh deeply.

"Here, this is for you as well." Bilbo pulled a roll of paper from out of his back pocket and handed it to Thorin. Gazing at the roll, Thorin untied it and unraveled it like a scroll. The front page was decorated in an elaborate script, most likely Tengwar, but the title was in Khuzdul. "The Tale of Thorin and Bilbo," he read.

"Bilbo, how can I ever thank you?" Thorin asked, holding Bilbo closely. Thorin cupped Bilbo's face and rubbed his cheek lightly with his thumb.

"You are enough thanks for me any day. I love my gifts, Thorin. Thank you." Bilbo was flushing at Thorin's touch and Thorin could feel his cheek growing warmer under his hand. He began to lean in closer to Bilbo.

"I love you, Bilbo. More than you can ever know." Thorin pulled Bilbo's face slowly into his, kissing him softly until they settled in front of the fire, cuddling and fast asleep.


End file.
